Page 63 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

Quinn’s face softens in knowing endearment as she nears me.

“Here you go. I’ll be right here if he gets too heavy, alright?”

I nod distractedly—all that matters to me right now is getting this baby back into my arms. The little boy looks up at me with his big green eyes and I feel the storm of anxiety inside of me dissipate. Here he is, safe and sound, despite how much danger he’d been in. I press my forehead to his and sob, cradling him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m so sorry Rowan, I’m so sorry, it’s gonna be alright. I did everything I could to protect you, but it wasn’t enough—I-I’m so sorry honey—”

I get too choked up to continue talking, so I just fall into quiet hitches and sobs as I clutch the boy to me.

“You did everything you could to look after him, Gwen. But I know how hard it is to feel like you’ve failed your children.”

Yourchildren. In such a quiet and simple way, Quinn acknowledged me as being Rowan’s mother. It awakens the feelings I’ve been skirting around in my mind; it’s only been days, but I’m already so deeply attached to this boy. I haven’t dared to think of myself in any sort of relation or permanence to him, not with how limited and unstable my connection with his father is. But I can deny it no longer: I love this darling little boy. The guilt and grief I felt at the thought of losing him or putting him in harm’s way makes it abundantly clear, but the joyful relief that overwhelms me now is the final straw.

“Yeah,” I tearfully mumble. “It’s hard.”

A gentle hand strokes my shoulder and I see the Luna smiling down at us through my tears.

“Thorn insisted that you both stay here for now while the dust settles. He’s currently investigating the conspiracy, but will hopefully be back soon.”

“That’s for the best.”

I notice Lucas and Quinn share a look of wordless relief, but I don’t have the fight in me to make a fuss over it. My brother puffs himself up in a rather proud posture; it would probably look rather intimidating and impressive to anyone else with his stature, but I still just see my baby brother peacocking around.

“And if anyone else tries anything, I’m here to protect you. That guy clearly isn’t a—”

“Don’t, Lucas,” I cut in.

He stops and I hold his gaze with a weary forcefulness. There’s a pride in my heart that refuses to abide him making any sort of sideways remark about Thorn. Perhaps it’s the mate bond. Maybe it’s just me. Either way, it feels right. My brotherlooks appropriately sheepish, and Quinn laughs lightly beside us.

“It’s a bit funny, honestly. Now there are two badass women I know who can stare their huge brothers into submission.”

I chuckle, though the sound of it is hoarse and thin.

“Paige, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. She’s the only person I’ve met who can get Thorn to back down.”

I look down to the baby in my arms and feel a nervous tightening of my chest at that. What will happen when Thorn comes back? He might be furious with me for failing to properly protect his son. He entrusted him to me, after all.

“Well,” Quinn softly pipes up, “I think it might be best if we let Gwen rest. Why don’t you have a little snuggle with the baby for a bit, and I’ll take him in a bit. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds… Good. Yeah. Thank you, Luna.”

Quinn chuckles.

“You don’t have to call me that, regardless of if you’re in my pack or not.”

Old habits die hard, and I’m still here on their hospitality. I don’t feel like arguing the point and feeding into my old anxieties, so I just nod and try to settle down with Rowan. He seems quite content to see me; he spends a minute just playing with my curly red hair and drooling all over the shirt I must have been dressed in after being treated. But soon enough the pair of us just cuddle in quiet, and I even drift off for a nap. Quinn is kind and smart enough to know to wake me before she takes Rowan away; if I’d woken up with him gone and no explanation, I would definitely have had a panic attack.

Lucas drifts in and out, though he always assures me he’s not going far. A few hours pass by, and I watch the world go into a golden twilight through the window by my bed. According to the pack doctor, I was lucky to have lived. I suffered from some nasty injuries, most notably the bite on my neck. But thankfully my body had been able to hold out and even start healing them a little bit, even though it’d been years since I’ve shifted and I never displayed too many of the benefits of being one of our kind. It hadn’t been enough to properly heal my wounds, but it had spared me from some less than ideal outcomes.

I’m in the middle of resisting the urge to scratch at the neck dressings for the hundredth time today when I see a tall figure striding along in the distance. Even this far away, he’s unmistakable. My heart skips a hectic beat as I sit further up and watch Thorn make his way through the pack grounds. Each stride is purposeful and sharp; I can tell he’s still pretty wound up. But of course he’d be, with all that happened.

One of his hands lifts and I see another man approach him. This one takes me a bit longer to recognize, but after a few seconds I think I’ve managed to successfully identify him as this pack’s Alpha. I can feel my anxiety winding tighter with each passing second—who knows where things will go from here? Amazingly, despite all the worst fears and vigilant paranoia that tries to bristle up like usual, I feel a sense of hopeful yearning start to drown it out.

For my sake, I really do hope that hope is right. I don’t know if I can ever recover if he breaks my heart again. The two men start to walk off out of my line of sight and I’m forced to sit there fretting for what feels like an age. Lucas left me with my phone, so I suppose I could always call him, but he must be busy if he hasn’t come to see me yet. I have to fend off my worst thoughts the entire time; the wounded parts of my psyche writheand cry out with each passing second of uncertainty, ready to supply the worst interpretations.

So by the time Thorn actually walks into the room, I feel pretty twitchy beneath the heavy veil of exhaustion. The fresh ache of my clenching ribcage makes it hard to keep my breathing steady. He seems to hesitate a bit at the doorway with how long it takes for him to shut it behind him. Neither of us move or say anything for almost five seconds.

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